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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27871669">The Path to Freedom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutra/pseuds/Neutra'>Neutra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angry Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, M/M, No seriously screw the chantry, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, The Chantry sucks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:54:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27871669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutra/pseuds/Neutra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She is no leader, no herald, and certainly no saint, but now the world expects her to be all 3. This is the story of Rev’Ghilana, an elven circle mage who was already struggling with living outside of a circle and now the end of the world is happening. *Warning most of the chapter is spent dealing with a panic attack. (The summary will be updated later)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Path to Freedom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first time writing a fic so comments and corrections are much appreciated. I would like to thank KatDancer for betaing this chapter. Without her help, I would not have the courage to post this. I would also like to thank jenny_of_oldstones who helped me figure out how to write a panic attack.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first thing she became aware of was the stench of fresh blood overlaying the decaying scent of the old, of stale urine and feces, of the pungent smell of vomit, old moldy hay, and stone; she knew those smells all too well. Then, as awareness returned more fully, she heard the sound of heavy armor clanking nearby as someone shifted, the sound of breathing, the clanking of chains, and the drip of water; she knew those sounds, and her heart began to race. Bang bang bang bang it sounded so loudly in her ears, drowning out every other sound except the sound of her own increasingly labored breathing. Then came touch; she could feel the metal that encased her wrists; she had expected to feel that.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Do not panic: breathe in two three four, out two three four. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She shuddered as slowly she regained control of her breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good, just like that, you can do this. Stay in control, in two three four, can you use magic? Out two three four.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tentatively she reached for her magic, trying to send a sliver out into the world only for it to return in waves tossing her about so that her stomach never seemed to be in the right place. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Blast, blast, blast it</span>
  </em>
  <span>! </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is wrong with my magic? What happened? I can’t remember, why can’t I remember?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Seconds later she wished sensation had not returned to her; pain screamed from her hand up her arm: lightning and fire, thousands of blades embedded in her, tearing and ripping more than just her flesh. It drove every thought from her mind and shoved her magic out into the world against her will, only for the magic to return again, dashing her against her own mind and stopping suddenly. And yet, throughout this, she held her silence, she would not give in to the terror racing through her body, would not give in to her captors, would not Lose CONTROL!...not again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Footsteps, sharp and heavy rang against the stone, announcing here walked a proud warrior and hiding a second set of footsteps, barely there, underneath. Despite her best efforts, she felt herself flinch as the door opened loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Breathe normally. No matter what you do, do not make a sound; they like it when you make noise. Come on, in and out. In and-- </span>
  </em>
  <span>A flash of images and the memory of pain as a fist slammed into her stomach.</span>
  <em>
    <span> No, focus, do not show anything, focus...</span>
  </em>
  <span>The footsteps approached, the clanking of metal growing ever louder, ever closer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, don’t, focus, breathe--</span>
  </em>
  <span> she could feel her throat tightening, could feel the sweat dripping down her back, could feel her body shaking. So cold, it was so cold. She heard the footsteps circle her from behind, and then a flat voice in her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead, except for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh Maker, this isn’t just about some “fun.” She wants me dead. What is going on? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rev’Ghilana felt her hands shaking in response to the anger, the hate, in that voice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop it, they like it when they can see you are scared. You can do this, you</span>
  </em>
  <span> … </span>
  <em>
    <span>are dead, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the panicking part of her mind supplied</span>
  <em>
    <span>, and there is nothing you could do to stop her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. With that realization, she lost the control she had barely been holding,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Nothing you say matters. Why should they listen to you? You are a mage, after all, and mages are always at fault.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Explain this.” A hand roughly grabbed her arm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t touch me…Don’t Touch me…DON’T TOUCH ME!!! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Instinctively she tried to pull away but was stopped by the metal restraints, only for her to be shoved away as pain raced up her arm again, reaching for her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ex” she struggled to get the sound out past the blockage in her throat, but nothing came out, the only sound that of her pained gasps for breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t breathe. Maker help me, I can’t breathe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The mark on your hand, explain it.” Two hands grabbed at her again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, get away from me, don’t touch me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She twitched and shoved out of those hands and away from the angry woman, away from the clanking of metal, away from the grabby hands that would hurt her over and over again. Curling up and raising her hands to defend her head, a whimper of sound escaped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need her, Cassandra; we can’t get answers if she is too scared to talk.” The second speaker knelt in front of her, her voice soft, gentle, sad...and so very angry “Do you remember what happened, how this began?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A fragile hope bloomed </span>
  <em>
    <span>if I answer, maybe she won’t kill me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then died. “N-n-no, I, w-w-what mark?” She had no answers</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“…Don’t toy with me-- the mark on your hand, how did you get it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fighting to regain some sense of control, Rev’Ghilana turned to focus on her hand, fighting past her pain and nausea; </span>
  <em>
    <span>there is a strange magic in my hand. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I, I d-do not know. The l-last thing I remember is being a-a-afraid, and then…a feeling of comfort, of someone reaching out to me, I think it was a woman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A woman?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to the forward camp Leliana, I will take her to the rift.” The first voice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cassandra,</span>
  </em>
  <span> said, anger still in her voice but also resignation, gentleness, and a touch of kindness. That small change in voice and the memory of comfort was enough to help her calm down a little. </span>
  <em>
    <span>In two three four, out two three four. Focus on the conversation In two three four, out two three four.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What did they say, something about a rift? What rift, what are they talking about? </span>
  </em>
  <span>As she finally began to regain control over her breathing, her racing heart began to slow to a more normal pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt one of the women approach, kneel, and grab the shackles that held her hands; this time, she managed to not flinch away. Then with a clink of sound, the shackle came free. “What,” Rev’Ghilana swallowed, forcing sound past her remaining fear “what happened?” The other shackle came off and Cassandra lifted her up, holding her tightly, before forcing her hands together and binding them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It … will be easier to show you,” she said before stalking away, clearly expecting to be followed. Rev’Ghilana took her first tentative steps trying to follow the fading clunk of Cassandra’s footsteps. Each step felt like she was fighting through waves that shoved her to and fro, only for her to fall as her foot hit steps going up, bruising her hands and sending shockwaves up her left arm. She heard Cassandra turn around and tsk in annoyance before she felt hands once again lift her and drag her forward, past a set of steps down that caused her to stumble, down a long hallway and...right into a chandelier hanging low before marching her up a long set of stairs and into a large open space echoing with prayers, whimpers, and smelling of fear and despair. The hit to her head did not help her balance, forcing her to lean on Cassandra to try and keep steady. Cassandra suddenly strode away from Rev'Ghilana towards two large doors that opened loudly to a wash of cold air and screams that made her shiver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she stepped through the doorway, she felt something wrong off to the left and turned to face whatever it was. Loud crashes and came from whatever it was; even this far away, even with her magic surging, she could finally feel the locus of the waves that had been overwhelming her. It wasn’t anything as simple as the tears in the veil she had felt before when crossing over ancient battlefields; those tears felt like a stitch had been cut or broken; No, this was as if someone had taken the veil and ripped it open wide. Through the gash in the veil the fade was rushing into the waking world in wave after wave of magic, and with each rush of magic, the gash grew. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time, and all she could do was stand in shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We call it the Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>It makes sense that there are other tears if the veil really was ripped open. It is probably a ripple effect from whatever happened here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Unless we act the breach may grow until it swallows the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>CRACK, it echoed through the mountains while at the same time pain, worse than before, shredded her arm and tore apart the mana that flowed through her body. She was forced to her knees as she cried out before pulling her hand to her chest trying futilely to stem the pain as the magic in her hand sparked and crackled. The pain was so intense she was unaware of Cassandra approaching. “Each time the breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you.” Rev’Ghilana was shocked to hear the gentleness in that voice, the anger was all but gone. “It may be the key to stopping this,” Cassandra continued, “but there isn’t much time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think I can help because of the magic in my hand? You don’t know anything about it and you want to play around with it? For all you know it could make things worse.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Even if the magic in my hand can do something about these rifts and I am able to use it, I would likely die in the attempt. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your mark is the only chance we have at closing the breach. </span>
  <span>And yours. </span>
  <span>Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You still think I did this? To myself? Of course you do; I am a mage.” The anger was refreshing, clearing enough of the panic she felt to let her focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not like I have a choice,” she replied resentfully. “Even if I said no you would still force me to one of these rifts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of us have a choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Liar</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Stupid chandelier, I hit my head on it practically every time I go down there.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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